


War of Hearts

by littlefrog1025



Series: domestic!Stucky [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Arguing, Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes Feels, Christmas, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Divorce, Dom Bucky Barnes, Established Relationship, Excessive Drinking, Hanukkah, Happy Ending, Honesty, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Kissing, Lies, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Married Life, Mentions of Crossdressing, Mentions of PTSD, New Year's Eve, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Steve Rogers, Pet Names, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Rimming, Shower Sex, Steve Rogers Feels, Sub Steve Rogers, Teasing, Thanksgiving, Tony Feels, Touch-Starved, art therapist!Steve, chef!bucky, mentions of Daddy KInk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8634832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlefrog1025/pseuds/littlefrog1025
Summary: Holiday!Stucky. Still domestic af.





	1. Thanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving with Bucky, Steve, and the rest of The Avengers*.

* * *

Bucky trots down the [stairs](http://www.houzz.com/photos/17901320/New-West-Classic-traditional-living-room-vancouver), yawning, in only a pair of [boxer briefs](https://www.overstock.com/Clothing-Shoes/Hanes-Classics-Mens-Tagless-Stretch-Fit-Short-Leg-Boxer-Briefs-with-Comfort-Flex-Waistband-Pack-of-4/10020009/product.html); his hair is a mess, getting longer and in need of a cut.

“Morning,” says the cheery voice of Tony Stark, who is currently sitting on his couch, drinking coffee with Steve. There’s a pile of blankets and a pillow on the floor just under their feet.

Bucky nods and gives a tight smile. “Morning.”

“What’s for breakfast,” Tony asks.

And just like that, Bucky’s resolve breaks and his face forms into a glower. “Excuse me?”

Steve immediately jumps up from the couch and crosses the room toward Bucky. There’s a polite, but nervous smile on his face. “We’ll go see.” He grabs Bucky’s arm, dragging him into the [kitchen](http://www.houzz.com/photos/17901837/New-West-Classic-traditional-kitchen-vancouver).

“Okay. What the fuck, Steve?”

Steve shushes him. Bucky takes a deep breath, willing himself not to punch a hole in the wall. “He’s been here for over a week, Steve. He’s underfoot and irritating. He has to go home at some point. And by ‘some point’ I mean now.”

Steve opens a cabinet and pulls out a [coffee mug](http://www.webstaurantstore.com/tuxton-cqm-085-concentrix-8-oz-cayenne-china-gala-mug-24-case/303CON085BUR.html). “I know. But he’s hurting, Bucky. He needs to work through his feelings and talk things out.”

“No. No, that’s what he needed to do 4 days ago, when I was fine with this and patient, but it’s been 10 days and that patience is gone. Whatever his deal is he needs to go home and work it out with his _wife_.”

 _“Are you guys making omelets again, because I’d really like blueberry waffles instead,”_ Tony shouts from the living room.

“He doesn’t think he can talk about this with Pepper. He doesn’t think she’ll take it well. She won’t understand.” Steve pours the remaining coffee in the [French press](http://www.target.com/p/bodum-8-cup-french-press-coffee-maker-black/-/A-21561833?ref=tgt_adv_XS000000&AFID=google_pla_df&CPNG=PLA_Appliances+Shopping&adgroup=SC_Appliances&LID=700000001170770pgs&network=s&device=c&location=9031087&gclid=CjwKEAiAmdXBBRD0hZCVkYHTl20SJACWsZj99iY6llAA3KcsmOAiFzxZpyt3Xmal6rAucGoq1oPUUxoCXc7w_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds) into the mug and hands it to Bucky.

_“Can you put cut banana slices on my waffles, please?”_

Bucky slams the mug down on the [island](http://www.houzz.com/photos/17901935/New-West-Classic-traditional-kitchen-vancouver). “How the hell does he know that if he doesn’t talk to her?”

“He feels safe here, talking to me. We’re friends.”

“And that’s another thing: Tony has plenty of friends, why come here and disrupt our lives with his baggage? Why not go to Rhodey or Natasha? People who _aren’t_ married with kids.”

“Because obviously he can’t talk to them,” Steve snaps in a whisper.

Bucky crosses his thick arms and narrows his eyes at the blonde-haired man. “Or maybe it’s something else, Steve.”

“We are not rehashing that again. I said all I had to say about that,” Steve tells his husband, sounding just as finite as he intends.

It’s a subject they’ve clearly exhausted more than a few times over the years. Steve is over it. Been over it. Yet, Bucky feels as though they’ve barely scratched the surface of it. Even still, he won’t press his luck. At least right now. He has a more pressing argument to make, and that’s getting Tony Stark off their couch.

“I don’t like this, Steve. And you shouldn’t either. You should hate this more than me. We are helping him lie to Pepper. We’re hiding him because he can’t deal with whatever unresolved feelings he had, or _has_ rather, for someone else. It’s a secret, a bad one, and it’s not right.”

“…I know,” Steve concedes, looking ashamed.

Bucky tries for a softer, understanding tone, acknowledging the heavy look on his husband’s face. “Stevie. He’s an adult. You can not keep babying him.”

“I don’t.”

Bucky raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“I don’t!”

_“Steve, will you make more coffee? And I still don’t understand how your TV works. I’m going to rewire everything and maybe see if I can get you guys the Playboy Channel. …Or Playgirl rather.”_

“I’d like to add intrusive to the list of adjectives describing my annoyance with this entire situation,” Bucky smarts.

“Bucky—”

“ _Today, Steven_. He leaves today. By the time I get home I want him gone.”

Bucky grabs his cup of coffee and disappears upstairs through the hidden steps off-set from the kitchen.

»»»

Steve wanders back into the [living room](http://www.houzz.com/photos/17901182/New-West-Classic-traditional-living-room-vancouver). Tony is fiddling with a high-tech, electronic gadget in his hand and staring at silent snow on flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. He takes a seat on the arm of the 3-seat couch. “You hear all that,” Steve asks.

“Yup. God, he hates me.” A hologram of schematics projects from the device in Tony’s hand.

“He doesn’t hate you, Tony.”

“Sure feels like it.” The picture finally comes in, bright and clear, on the television. Tony presses a few buttons on his gadget and _voila!_ , every channel known to man is accessible on their TV. Tony tosses Steve the remote and flops down on the couch. “Now, you only need one remote instead of two. But it’d be way cooler if you used the voice command instead.”

“Bucky doesn’t hate you, Tony. He really doesn’t.” Steve sets the remote down on an end table. He wants to stay on topic; not give Tony a window to deflect. “He’s just…a little confused by our friendship, and how close we are.”

“Well, did you reassure him that I’m not going to steal you away…even though I totally could.” Tony winks at him.

Steve chuckles, blushing a bit. “As great as you are, Tony, we both know I’d give my life for that grouchy chef upstairs. There is no ‘stealing away’.”

“Aw, shucks. And here I thought we were going to elope to Paris and eat cheese and croissants all day while you drew nude sketches of me in our studio apartment above the café.”

“Sorry. Already eloped with a guy.” Steve holds up his left hand, showing off his wedding band.

Tony nods; a sad, far off look on his face as he stares out the window…

“Tony,” Steve slides down onto the couch beside him. “You need to go home. And not just because that’s what Bucky wants, but because you should. You need to talk to Pepper. You need to work through your feelings about Loki.”

Tony turns his full attention to Steve. “But that’s why I came here. You’re a therapist. And my friend. I wanted to talk to you.”

“But you’ve barely said anything. You’ve just been sleeping on the couch all day, watching HBO all night, and making Bucky cook for you. You’re hiding. I can’t keep letting you do that. I can’t help you lie to your wife anymore about where you’ve been and why. It’s not what I should be doing as a therapist or a friend.”

Tony knows he’s right, nodding his head slowly.

“Tony—”

“I love her, Steve. More than anything. Anyone. But Loki…” Tony’s hands ball into a fist at the mention of Loki’s name sliding from his mouth.

“I know that.” Steve does. He knows Tony feels the same way about as he does about Bucky. But sometimes there are just those people that will always manage to slip under your skin and bury themselves there forever.

Tears fill Tony’s eyes, turning them bright and glassy. He looks everywhere but at Steve who hangs on for a response…

“Mind if I take a shower before I leave,” Tony asks.

Steve can’t help the utter look of disappointment on his face. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Tony pops up from the couch and quickly disappears upstairs to the hall bathroom.

 

* * *

The glorious Thanksgiving [turkey](http://www.marthastewart.com/319233/maple-syrup-glazed-roast-turkey-with-rie) Bucky made is just a carcass of bone and gizzards. There’s only a fraction of the [candied yams](http://www.aidamollenkamp.com/2011/11/roasted-candied-sweet-potatoes/) left. Sam finished off the rest of the [cranberry sauce](http://thepioneerwoman.com/food-and-friends/thanksgiving-dinner-how-to-make-cranberry-sauce/), Natasha offers Thor the rest of the [green bean casserole](http://www.williams-sonoma.com/recipe/the-ultimate-green-bean-casserole-with-crispy-fried-shallots.html), which he aptly finishes in two bites. The basket of the flakiest, softest [biscuits](http://www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/baking-powder-biscuits-recipe) Bucky’s ever baked is empty of even crumbs. Steve practically hoarded all the [brussel sprouts](http://whatsgabycooking.com/sauteed-brussels-sprouts/) and [red potatoes](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/rosemary-roasted-potatoes-recipe.html), Darcy and Scott are the only ones that ate the [stuffing](http://www.marthastewart.com/1040386/sausage-pear-stuffing), and Pepper’s been occasionally picking at the [sautéed carrots](http://toriavey.com/toris-kitchen/2014/04/roasted-carrots-with-dill/) for the last 20 minutes between sips of Chardonnay and political debates with Clint.

And despite all this, when Bucky plucks down three pies: [pumpkin](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/food-network-kitchens/buttermilk-pumpkin-pie.html), [pecan](http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2011/11/classic-pecan-pie-recipe-easy-thanksgiving-dessert.html), and [sweet potato](http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/sweet-potato-pie-6), Steve, and their guests, turn into vicious animals attacking the desserts. If it weren’t the greatest compliment to Bucky’s cooking he’d find the whole thing terrifying.

He and Steve had a silent agreement when it comes to dinner parties and holiday meals: Bucky cooks everything and does none of the cleaning up afterward. He doesn’t care if Steve waits until morning to wash the mound of dirty dishes and utensils used, just so long as it gets done and not by him. However, he does assists in his own small way by pre-soaking the pots and pans in soapy, hot water. Otherwise, his boy scout of a husband is swearing like a sailor as he tries to get caked on pie crust and greasy oil off the cookery.

So Bucky slips into the kitchen, skipping dessert.

He rolls up his sleeves and runs the hot water until it’s steaming. He fills up various pots and pans, adding a few drops of dish soap to each, sitting them atop the filthy stove (that also needs cleaning) and the cluttered island. Bucky’s usually not a messy cook, except when he’s pressed for time, which he was today when Sarah threw a fit at the prospect of him not attending her Thanksgiving Day play at the local community center.

He’s soaking what seems like every cooking and eating utensil they own into a dish pan of scalding hot, soapy water when Tony enters the kitchen from the back door. Bucky hadn’t even noticed Tony left the dining room, let alone the house. There’s a rocks glass of brown liquor in his hand. Probably the same expensive [scotch](http://www.melandrose.com/istar.asp?a=6&id=30506&vfsku=3350597&vfsku=3350597&gpla=pla&gclid=CjwKEAiAmdXBBRD0hZCVkYHTl20SJACWsZj94omIQ6-VPP3exQ6CYebVizACr0n-Do3MrzADy6Q2PBoCocDw_wcB) he’s been sipping the whole night.

“Cold out. You don’t need a jacket,” Bucky asks, just making conversation.

Tony sniffs. His eyes look bloodshot and red-rimmed. He’s definitely drunk. “Hadn’t noticed.” He stumbles onto a stool at the island. “I miss dessert?”

Bucky shrugs. “Just pie. Want a slice?”

“I’m in love with Steve,” Tony blurts out. “I mean, I love him. I _used_ to be in love with him… But you knew that, didn’t you,” Tony smirks at him.

Drunk or not, there’s no way in hell Bucky’s backing out of this conversation. He’s been wanting to have it for _years_. “Yeah. I knew that. Figured anyway. Steve know?”

Tony scoffs, taking a sip of his scotch. “Hard to tell with him. Sometimes I think he knew, and other times…You’d think a therapist would be more observant. And direct.”

“He is,” Bucky defends.

“Then we’ll just call it ‘willful ignorance’ then.” Tony downs the rest of his drink. “I knew Steve could never love me, but I thought maybe, just maybe, when we slept together…but he was drunk. We both were. And then you happened right after, so…”

Tony staggers out of his seat to grab a bottle of red wine across the island.

Bucky watches him use their electronic wine opener (after a few failed attempts) to open the bottle and pour himself a glass.

“I hated you for a good while. At least until Pepper glided into my life like the angelic savior she is.”

“Just to clarify: you used to be in love with Steve. Are you now?”

Tony chuckles wryly. “There’s a part of me that will always be in love with him, Bucky. You’re not an idiot. You’re fully aware of that. It’s why we’re such good buddies,” he snarks.

Tony’s right. Bucky’s always assumed Tony’s had feelings for his husband, and that they quite possibly have never completely disappeared. Hence, he and Tony’s sometimes contentious and complicated relationship.

“He’s yours though,” Tony adds. “I’ve known that, accepted it, for a long time now. But we are friends, Bucky. He’s special to me.”

“I get that, but you ever stop to think I’d be more tolerant of that fact if you weren’t such a dick about it. If you didn’t treat the whole thing like I stole your prom date?”

“You kind of did, buckaroo.”

“And here I thought Steve was mine. That you knew that. Accepted it,” Bucky says, throwing Tony’s words back at him.

“Maybe I just like pulling your pigtails.”

“You got a crush on me, too, Tony?”

Tony shrugs. “You’re a good-looking guy. And Steve says you’re incredible in bed…”

Bucky snorts. “There’s a tiny fraction of you that means that, isn’t there?”

“Possibly.” He takes a big gulp of his Pinot Noir.

Tony showed up on their doorstep with a small suitcase and gym bag, the yellow cab behind him taking off down the suburban, tree-lined street. He asked to stay a few days and that they not tell Pepper. Took Bucky only a day to realize he was hiding, from Pepper, and whatever shattering reason he showed up. Took Bucky one more day to get Steve to cave and give him a few vague details about Tony suddenly showing up with bags at his feet and tears in his eyes.

It had something to do with Thor’s brother, Loki.

No one talks about Loki. The same way no one talks about Rumlow. So Bucky knows whatever went down in their circle of friends before he joined must have been bad. And caused a giant rift between Thor and his own brother. All Bucky knew was that Tony and Loki used to date. He filled in the blanks himself that Loki broke Tony’s heart before disappearing and never being mentioned again.

“What happened between you and Thor’s brother,” Bucky asks, because he just has to know. And Tony just admitted to being abstractedly in love with his husband. He thinks he deserves to know.

Tony’s visibly stunned for a beat at the abrupt question. He skips the glass and chugs from the wine bottle.

“Okay. Seeing as how I commandeered your couch for 10 days a couple weeks ago, and Steve has clearly been good about not gossiping about my past relationships, I’ll tell you.” He takes a deep breath and another swig of wine. He sits the bottle down on the counter. “…The first time I ever fell in love was with Loki. I’m 48 years old and the first time I ever let some in was when I was thirty-three.”

He takes another breath. “We met 15 years ago and were together for 4 years. And our relationship was…intense. You could also call it combative, volatile, and detrimental…but you could also say it was passionate, devout, and honest. Me and Loki were…wild. We were explosive together,” he says, smoothing the hair at the back of his neck, fidgeting and nervous at the candidness of this conversation. “You ever meet a couple that shouldn’t be together, but shouldn’t be with anyone else either?”

Bucky nods. Doesn’t everyone?

“Yeah. That was me and Loki. Things between us were always consuming, and not easy at the same time. We took over each other. He hated how dependent he was on me, and I hated how vulnerable he made me feel.”

“You loved each other. But resented each other for it,” Bucky concludes.

“Oh. Been there before?”

“…Unfortunately,” Bucky admits. “Before Steve.”

“You tell him—? Nevermind. Of course you did.”

“I don’t keep secrets from Steve.”

“Except your smoking,” Tony says, calling Bucky out.

Bucky glares at the billionaire.

Tony takes a pack of [Marlboro reds](https://www.google.com/search?q=marlboro&rlz=1C1NHXL_enUS681US681&biw=1280&bih=894&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjJ0omd6b_QAhXjlFQKHR2XC60Q_AUIBigB#tbm=isch&q=marlboro&chips=q:marlboro,g_1:red) from his pocket and puts them on the counter. “Found them behind the potted [Boxwood](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/f4/f2/4e/f4f24eedc72fb8dbc6974836c98ac3de.jpg) out there,” he nods to the back door.

Bucky rolls his eyes, takes the pack, and shoves it behind the microwave. “Loki know you were in love with Steve?”

“He spent the last year we were together accusing me of sleeping with him so often I barely got the chance to explore how I really felt about Steve in between defending myself and fucking him unconscious to prove my point.”

“What ended it?”

“…He had enough. We both did. There comes a point in relationships like that where it gets to be too much. For everyone. I already figured out I was gone on Steve by then, and Loki wanted to escape everything and everyone. Including me. Especially me.”

“Where’d he go?”

“Back home. Sydney. He’s always been close to his mother. He wanted to be near her. And his father. He completely cut me off. Wouldn’t even let Thor give me his number.” Hurt like fucking hell.” He wipes a stray tear falling from his eye, then picks up the wine bottle again, chugging it, and remembering the wreck he was when Loki left the country to get away from him.

“You haven’t seen him since, have you,” Bucky asks, piecing it all together.

Tony shakes his head. “Eleven goddamn years without a word and he just walks right past me at a farmer’s market with his wife like he doesn’t know me. Like what we had meant absolutely nothing. Like he…” Tony chokes up. He sniffles, clears his throat, trying to gain his composure. “Like we weren’t everything to each other once.”

“That’s why you crashed here…”

“It was the only thing I could do not to jump on my plane to Australia and beat him to death. We may have been wrong for each other, but he was my first love.” Tony’s voice grows in anger. “He fucking owned me. And it was messy and complicated and co-dependent and edgy but it was us. For 4 years we were one and he acted like I was nothing! He left and didn’t think I was even worth a fucking phone call! Then he comes to my city and ghosts me? No. No. Fuck him.”

“That’s the right attitude to have. But I still don’t get the excessive drinking.”

“I always drink this much.”

“And you’re usually a happy drunk. Obnoxious, but happy.”

“Yeah, well, that might have something to do with me stealing Thor’s phone and drunk-dialing Loki. He picked up the first time. I can’t remember what I said exactly but I know I told him he was ‘worthless’ and that I never loved him.”

“Jesus, Tony…” Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Plus, there’s the guilt. Still haven’t told Pepper that I was here and not in L.A. on business.”

“She know everything you just told me?”

Tony nods.

“Then she’ll understand. She’ll get it, and forgive you.”

Tony scoffs. “Oh, yeah? How understanding would Steve be about that pack of cigarettes?”

Bucky scowls.

“Exactly. No, thanks, buckaroo. I’ll just let the guilt eat away at me until I’m numb and no longer feel it. Just like you.”

Bucky wants to argue but he can’t. Tony’s right. Again. He’s doing the same thing with his smoking, and Bucky would be lying if he said it doesn’t bother him every time he lights up and hides it from Steve. He’s in no position to feel superior and give advice.

“This is a habit of ours.”

“What is,” Tony asks.

“Full-blown fight then heartfelt confession afterward.”

“Except you never confess anything.”

“What do you want to know,” Bucky asks.

“Anything?”

Bucky shrugs. He already opened the door, might as well invite Tony all the way in…

“I…can’t think of anything. Pony something up. Something good.”

Bucky sighs, rolling his eyes back into his head as he thinks…

“Oh, come on. You got to have some—”

“I almost thought Steve wasn’t worth it. When Rumlow was putting us through hell, I starting thinking: ‘Is he worth all this?’ ‘Wouldn’t a smarter man have moved on by now’? I really thought about ending things with him. Especially after that psycho took a dump on my bed and stole my cat.”

Tony, for his part, actually looks a little surprised. “What changed your mind?”

Bucky smirks. “You.”

“Me?”

“You wanted him. I could tell. It felt like you were just waiting for me to fail. And the thought of Steve with—”

“Me.”

“— _anyone_ was enough for me to realize he was worth it all. I didn’t want to lose him.”

“You’d kill for him, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d give my life for him.”

“And kill for him.”

“And kill for him, yes, Tony.”

“Then why is Brock still breathing,” Tony jokes.

“Because Steve begged me not to.”

Tony laughs…until he takes note of the stone cold seriousness on Bucky’s face. He swallows thickly.

“Thanks,” the younger man says.

“For,” Tony asks.

“Sharing.”

“…You’re a good listener.”

Bucky nods. It’s about as close to a hug as they’re going to get. They may have squared some things away, cleared the air on a thing or two, but they’re not best friends. Probably never will be. And that’s okay. They have Steve in common, and Bucky’s restaurant, Marvel. They don’t need to go beyond that. Being honest, respectful, good to one another, is more than enough.

“Was wondering where you fled,” Pepper asks, entering the kitchen, Steve behind her.

“Thanks for starting the dishes,” Steve says, planting a quick kiss on Bucky’s lips.

“There any pie left,” Tony asks.

“A slice or two of pumpkin,” Pepper answers, “if you hurry and don’t let Thor eat the whole thing.”

“Right. I have to go vomit first though.” And Tony hurls into the trash can at the end of the counter.

Pepper rolls her eyes. “And that’s our cue to leave.”

“I still want pie,” Tony mumbles, head in the garbage pail.

“You don’t get anything.” She turns to Steve and Bucky offering warm hugs. “Thank you two for hosting this year. It was lovely and delicious. I know Maria had a good time with Sarah. We’ll try for coffee before Christmas at Thor and Jane’s, okay? And sorry about this asshole,” she says, pointing to Tony spitting in the garbage. He wipes his mouth with a dish towel.

Steve shakes his head at his friend. “Of course.” He pecks Pepper on the cheek.

Pepper yanks Tony upright. “We’ll show ourselves out.” She drags her husband from the kitchen into the common area to say ‘goodnight’ to the rest of their friends.

Steve turns to Bucky. “You and Tony were in here a while.”

“And neither of us are dead,” Bucky quips.

“Surprisingly. What did you talk about?”

Bucky smiles fondly at him. “You.”

“What about me?”

“How much we love you.”

“And how much do you love me, Bucky Barnes,” Steve asks with a grin, wrapping his strong arms around Bucky’s hard stomach.

“…Enough to tell you the truth.”

Steve’s expression turns nervous at the look on Bucky’s face. Bucky reaches behind the microwave. He slaps the pack of cigarettes against Steve’s broad chest.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

Steve’s face turns into a hard, angry scowl. Bucky knows he’s in the biggest amount of trouble, but he can’t really care too much at the moment. He told the truth. He’s no longer lying, and the weight of the guilt he’s been lugging around eases off his shoulders a bit.

He feels good.

He’ll definitely be sleeping downstairs on the couch for a few days, Steve’s silent treatment is legendary, which he’ll also endure for a good while he’s sure, and he’s absolutely going to have to clean this entire kitchen from top to bottom. Tonight. But it’s worth it.

Steve’s worth it. Not lying to him, hiding things from him, is worth it.

And Bucky hopes Tony realizes that about Pepper, too.

Soon…


	2. Christmas/Hanukkah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holidays aren't just about gifts. Bucky and Steve make sure of it. Bucky embraces his heritage, and Thor drops a bomb on Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

* * *

“Bucky, fuuuuuck!”

“Shhh… You’ll wake the kids, doll,” Bucky whispers.

Steve moans loudly when Bucky’s mouth returns to his entrance, eating him out. He’s trying to hold it in, to bite his lip and keep quite, but it’s too much. Bucky’s too good at this, Steve wants it too bad, and it feels too damn good to hold back.

Bucky slips a wet finger inside him, working it in and out. Steve grabs hold of the [headboard](http://www.houzz.com/photos/5541175/Bedrooms-transitional-bedroom-new-york), shaking and whimpering.

Bucky pulls his finger out and sticks it into his mouth, tasting Steve on his tongue.

Steve grabs Bucky at the back of his neck yanks him forward for a hard kiss.

It’s almost seven in the morning on Christmas Eve. Sarah and Joey are going to be up soon, wanting their breakfast and for Steve and Bucky to watch cartoons with them before they go to the VFW. But Bucky woke up 20 minutes ago unable to drift back to sleep, mind racing with all the dirty things he wanted to do to his naked, sleeping husband. So he quietly opened his nightstand drawer and took out the little bottle of [lube](http://boybutter.com/collections/boy-butter-lubricants-water-based/products/h2o-formula-6-oz), wet his finger, and massaged Steve’s hole open until the blond woke up, moaning softly and begging.

“Christ, Bucky. I’ve missed you...”

Time’s gotten away from them again. They haven’t fooled around in almost 3 weeks with work and the holidays causing extra stress and distance between them.

Then there was the whole 4 days Steve didn’t talk to Bucky when the chef confessed to smoking again at Thanksgiving. Steve’s silent treatment is notorious, and so are his “punishments,” like forcing Bucky to sleep in the guest room, eating dinner without him, and hiding out in his studio for hours on end to avoid being in the same room with Bucky.

But Steve’s forgiveness and Bucky’s penance is just as incredible.

“I missed you, too. Turn over, sweetheart, so I can show you how much,” Bucky smirks.

Steve rolls onto his stomach. Bucky sinks between his legs.

He uses one hand to spread Steve’s cheeks, and a finger on his right hand to rub gently at his anus. Steve buries a moan into his pillow.

“You have no idea how hot you are, Stevie. How fucking beautiful your hole is.” Bucky bends to lick at it.

Steve slides his hand to his cock.

Bucky slaps his ass. “You know better.”

“Bucky, please.”

“Behave or I’ll stop.”

Steve removes his hand from his dick, bringing it back to the headboard, griping it tight.

Bucky kisses Steve’s thighs. “Good boy.” He watches with fascination as Steve’s pucker winks at him, moist with sweat and Bucky’s spit.

Bucky starts slow at Steve’s balls, licking his way up, over his taint, and to his pink hole. Steve’s hips rise as he squirms. Bucky keeps at it: licking up and down, with his entire tongue, as Steve tenses against the headboard.

“You taste so good, Stevie. The sweetest ‘pussy’, doll.”

“Oh, my god…” Steve trembles.

Bucky pushes both of his thumbs inside Steve and opens him wider. He spits in his gaping hole and rams his tongue inside.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Bucky!”

Bucky keeps Steve planted to the bed with a strong arm holding him down at the small of his back. Bucky fucks him deep with his tongue, lavishing in the salty taste of his perspiration, and the heady tang of Steve’s opening.

He grabs both of Steve’s cheeks— hard enough to leave fingerprint bruises— and pushes them apart, diving as far as she can into Steve’s canal.

Steve’s given up any pretense of trying to remain quiet. He cries out with tears stinging his eyes, body hot and quivering as he borders on coming.

Bucky eats him out, sloppy and wet, giving up any and all finesse, just wanting Steve to lose it as he feeds from him greedily.

Steve feels the crawl of drool from his husband’s mouth drag down his taint to his balls. His hands white knuckle on the planks of the headboard, creaking the wood in his grasp.

Bucky fits his middle finger inside with his tongue, grazing Steve’s prostate—

“Oh, shit, Bucky!” Steve bucks, coming wild, all over his stomach and the bedding.

Steve’s still shaking from his orgasm, barely a moment to breathe, before Bucky’s pushing his cock inside him and fucking him viciously. His hand digs into blond locks with a demanding tug as his dick hits Steve’s prostate over and over and over again.

“So good, Stevie… Pussy so wet… Fuck you open good on my cock…” Bucky mutters in angry growls.

Steve’s just a bunch of tender nerves of pleasure and pain. He lies in his own cum, sedated and numb as Bucky fucks him raw and angry.

“Oh, shit! Fuck! Stevie, goddamit,” Bucky shouts as he comes inside Steve, filling him up with rivulets of his release. He lets go of Steve’s hair, holding him at his shoulder and hip instead; riding out the tail end of his orgasm.

Bucky slips out of him. Messy. Cum dribbles from Steve’s opening. Bucky shuffles down to lick at it.

Steve comes again, quiet and responsive with a soft sigh. He’s mush. Lying there in their bed, remembering how to breathe. His eyes are wet with tears. Bucky’s face is sweaty and flushed. His mouth and chin red, and wet with cum. He collapses beside Steve, taking big gulps of air into his lungs.

Steve opens his eyes, the distortion of his tears clearing away. Bucky lies beside him, chest heaving and covered in sweat. His brown coif is damp, sticking to his forehead. Bucky turns his head and catches Steve’s eye. He leans over and kisses him on the lips. Steve can taste salt and smell cum on his breath. He smiles.

“We totally woke the kids.”

“I don’t care,” Steve mumbles.

Bucky chuckles. “That worth it, huh?”

“You have no idea, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky chuckles again. “Good. I’m glad. I love when you get off.”

“Me, too.”

A light rap at the closed bedroom door steals their afterglow.

“Daddies. Me and Joey want breakfast.”

“I can’t move. I don’t want to move.”

Bucky kisses Steve’s shoulder. “Stay.” Bucky climbs out of bed and toward the door. He opens it just a peek, enough for him to stick his head out and shield his nudity with the door. “Daddy is still sleep, but give Dada a sec and I’ll go make you waffles, okay,” Bucky whispers. “Go watch Rudolph ‘til I come down, alright?”

“Okay,” Sarah replies.

“Help your brother down the stairs, too, okay?”

“’Kay.”

Sarah turns down the hall toward the stairs with Joey’s hand in hers. Bucky shuts the door.

“I love you,” Steve tells him, still a limp noodle.

Bucky smacks his ass. “I know.” He heads into the master bathroom.

»»»

Bucky guides the [catering truck](http://www.msmcateringtrucks.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Food-Truck-Gourmet-Truck-Cater-Trailer-Concession-Trailer-66.jpg) into the alley beside the [VFW](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1f/Law_Building_Camden_NJ.JPG). He smacks the sliding back door of the vehicle when they reach the side door of the building. Sarah stands next to him in her pink hat and mittens.

“What’s a VFW,” she asks.

“It’s a place where people who were soldiers, like me and Daddy, go to hang out and community organizes. And other stuff, like help soldiers who feel bad after they come home from war get help,” Bucky answers.

T’Challa hops from the driver’s side and toward Bucky and Sarah. He and Bucky embrace.

“Merry Christmas, friend,” T’Challa says.

“You, too.”

“And Merry Christmas to you, too, Miss Sarah Barnes.”

Sarah hugs T’Challa’s legs. “Merry Christmas.”

“Thanks for bringing the food, T’Challa. I know it’s Christmas Eve and you’re busy....”

T’Challa waves him off. “Anything for soldiers of war. I may not have been one, but I have tremendous respect for what you and those like you have done.”

“I was not nearly as good a soldier as these guys. And Steve.”

T’Challa smiles. “You sell yourself short, my friend.”

“Doubt it. Help me with the food so you can go back home to your wife.”

“I want to help, too,” Sarah squeals.

“Of course, peanut! That’s why you’re here. You’re the greatest helper there is,” Bucky tells his daughter.

She smiles brightly with her missing front tooth.

»»»

Steve bursts through the [kitchen](http://www.nevadamo.gov//wp-content/uploads/Kitchen-2.jpg) with a large, empty pan. “I need more of that [mushroom toast](http://www.finecooking.com/recipes/wild-mushroom-toasts.aspx). ASAP.”

Bucky puts down his knife, wipes his hand son his apron, and grabs two big baking sheets with buttered toast on them out of the oven with a pair of mittens. “Sharon. Put the mushrooms on the bread please.”

Sharon rolls her eyes and shuffles over to the oven to do as Bucky asks.

Bucky shakes his head and returns to chopping [celery root and red onions](http://www.platingsandpairings.com/apple-and-celery-root-slaw/). Steve joins him. “Any particular reason you haven’t fired her yet,” Steve whispers.

“I had every intention of firing her after Halloween, but I needed her to stay on at The Red Room when Jack quit and went back to London to work at his grandfather’s restaurant. Thanksgiving crept up, and then next thing I know it’s Christmas. I can’t be Scrooge and fire her on the holidays,” Bucky whispers back.

“So, what? You’re going to keep her on until after Valentine’s Day?”

Bucky’s eyes narrow at him.

“And I’m the bleeding heart,” Steve laughs.

“You still are. I’m just stuck with her until… Jesus. New Year’s?”

“Bucky, she’s the worst. She has a foul attitude about everything and makes lewd come ons at me whenever we have the misfortune of being alone. She’s offensive.”

“I know all this, Stevie, and I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to find a nice way of letting a girl go that I threw a lobster pot at once so she doesn’t sue me.”

“Forgot about the lobster pot thing…”

“Yeah.”

“She cried. Now, I remember.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Welcome to the ‘Sharon saga’.”

“Bucky. Steve. The bread,” Sharon barks at them. She returns to stirring the [barley soup](http://www.watchwhatueat.com/barley-soup/).

“How did you even get her to come to this,” Steve asks.

“I was short a body...so I offered her a hundred bucks.”

Steve gives him a chastising glare.

Bucky shrugs: _What do you want me to do?_

Steve uses tongs to place the mushroom bread in bread baskets.

Sam pokes his head in the swing door: “I need more of the [carrots with yogurt](http://deliciouslyorganic.net/roasted-carrots-with-parsley-yogurt-sauce-grain-free/) thingy.”

“Sam,” Bucky calls.

Sam pokes his head back inside.

“My kids.”

“They’re fine. Sarah’s eating with the widows and Natasha’s looking after Joey,” he responds.

Steve raises a curious eyebrow. “Natasha?”

Sam shrugs and disappears behind the door again.

Bucky and Steve share a look. Guess Natasha is babysitting Joey… It’s only strange because the redhead has always made it known she doesn’t really care for kids. She’ll pay lipservice to the brood of their little group of friends, but everyone knows, right off the bat, that Natasha Romanov is not to be counted on for any sort of kid sitting.

“Do I have to make the carrots, too,” Sharon groans.

God, Bucky can’t wait to fire her… “No. Ricky can do it,” he nods to a young Hispanic kid [stuffing potatoes with boiled and seasoned pear](http://www.countryliving.com/food-drinks/recipes/a982/double-stuffed-potatoes-3082/). “You dish out the soup and send Carol back to finish the potatoes Ricky started.”

“Whatever,” Sharon bemoans, before grabbing the pot of soup and walking toward the expo window.

He really, really can’t wait to fire her.

»»»

Bucky exits the kitchen into the [dining hall](http://bloximages.chicago2.vip.townnews.com/maysville-online.com/content/tncms/assets/v3/editorial/0/36/0369dfbf-705f-59ec-82e2-07af94fd77d4/560d6cb3eed10.image.jpg?resize=1200%2C818), biting into a pear. He’s taken aback by the standing ovation he’s given the moment he appears. He’s awkward, fidgety, as the room full of soldiers, and the widows of soldiers, cheer for him and his culinary skills.

Steve comes to the rescue.

“Steve—”

“I know. Just breathe.”

“I don’t like this.”

Bucky’s anxiety is starting to surface. He doesn’t like being the certain of attention. Particularly not here. Not now. Not with a room full of war heroes clapping at him over [honey baked ham](http://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/holiday-ham-with-riesling-and-mustard) and [eggnog pudding](http://www.jacquelynclark.com/2016/12/15/eggnog-pudding-sugar-cookie-crumble-bourbon-whipped-cream/).

“I know. I’m here. Try to smile though. Please. They’re saying ‘thank you’.”

Bucky gives a weak smile and limp wave to the room that eventually calms down and plops back into their seats.

“You okay,” Steve asks when the room returns to quiet.

“Did you—”

“You know I wouldn’t. They’re grateful and just wanted to show it. Deep breath.”

Bucky breathes in deep, and exhales slowly...

“Good job.”

Bucky nods.

“Now, you want to play Bingo and dance a little?”

Bucky laughs. Steve always knows how to bring him down. “Sure.”

»»»

The band Sam hired is pretty good.

All the widows want to dance with Steve (and Thor) of course, so the former Army captain has to literally create a dance card to keep up with the requests.

Bucky and Natasha cut a rug for a song, then he and Jane dance for two more.

Clint offers his hand to Bucky after another twirl with Natasha.

Bucky hesitates, apprehensive about dancing with another man in front of a room full of soldiers from WWII to Vietnam to the Iraq War, and what they might think. But Clint merely rolls his eyes, snatches his hand, and leads him around the dance floor to the jazz tune being played.

“Stop looking around and just fucking dance, alright?”

“These guys are from a different era, Clint?”

“A soldier is a soldier is a soldier, sergeant. You know that. You don’t care about who a guy takes to bed as long as he’s got your back and you’ve got his.”

It’s…true actually. Most military personnel could give a rat’s ass who fucks who, just so long as the guy next to you in the trench is ready to fight just as fierce as you. Bucky forgets that sometimes, but is always pleasantly surprised when he remembers.

Clint spins Bucky, letting go of his hand as the song ends, and Bucky falls into Steve.

“Hello, there.”

“’Hey’ yourself, captain.”

Steve takes Bucky’s hand into his own. He leads them around the dance floor to Eartha Kitt’s “Santa Baby.” “Haven’t been a captain in a while.”

“Really now? Shame. You look like the type of soldier that knows how to take charge.”

Steve blushes. “No, sir. Not really. That’s my husband actually.”

“Oh. So, you’re married?”

“Yup. To a damn fine man. Good soldier. Good cook,” Steve flatters.

It’s Bucky’s turn to blush now. “Well, he’s very lucky. Tell him I said so.”

“I’m the lucky one actually,” Steve confesses.

“How’s that?”

Steve leans into Bucky’s ear. “He saved me.”

Bucky smiles. “From?”

“Everything. Even myself.”

“A wreck were you?”

“Completely.”

“Well, clearly he saw something worthwhile in you enough to marry.”

“I guess he did…”

“So you love him.”

“To the end of the line.”

»»»

Scott Lang is apparently a fucking Bingo master. He wins the first two rounds, but randomly selects a veteran to give his prizes to instead of keeping them. As he should. What’s he going to do with a Rascal Scooter and a lifetime pass to the [WWII museum](https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwjwgbTEr6fRAhWHslQKHSQuDe0QFggvMAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.nationalww2museum.org%2F&usg=AFQjCNEtIH7XG4b6_AK2uzPns-lnqQC7og&sig2=ccJWo5xIW-xx1noqEkNMkA) in New Orleans?

Bucky’s been to New Orleans a few dozen times (it’s a food mecca down there), and once with Scott before he started dating Steve. Quite possibly the wildest trip he’s ever been on; Scott lost his hearing for 48 hours and got into a fist fight with a prostitute. Bucky on the other hand was banned for life from St. Louis Cathedral and unfortunately had to travel home without any pants.

Best and worst [Mardi Gras](https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=6&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwim9JrRr6fRAhVmqVQKHaxBB1YQFgg2MAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FMardi_Gras&usg=AFQjCNEPLnXSUSkvO1Z_ki_r6D3Qa8jwpA&sig2=UBCzwScMjIqYUJtar_KRKg) ever.

The final round of Bingo ends and Bucky hides out in the kitchen, cleaning with the rest of the crew he brought along. He sent Sharon home after dancing started, however, sick of her sour attitude and whining.

He can’t bear to stand there shaking hands with war veterans and their grateful widows, thanking him for simply cooking some food on Christmas. Its odd to him, being undeservedly bestowed all this praise from men of battle because he remembered them, what they did and sacrificed for their country. It all felt...wrong. Uneven. He should be on the other side of all the ‘thank yous’, dolling them out like candy.

He used to do this more often. Volunteer his time. And not just with cooking. But three restaurants, two kids, a husband, and everything else in between took over. Then time became money donations, dollar signs instead of his presence. Except now, Christmas. Every year like clockwork since Sarah was 3 years old.

The door opens and Steve pokes his head in. Bucky already knows what he wants.

“Buck…”

“No,” he says, scrubbing the hell out of a large baking sheet. He can feel the grit and grim under his nails.

“The want to say ‘thanks’, Bucky. Let them.”

“Not with that standing ovation shit.”

“Nothing like that—”

Bucky turns his head to Steve with a horrible thought in his head. “I swear to god if it’s fucking money—”

“It’s not. I made sure of it.”

“Then it’s a gift.”

“Not that either. I made them promise me that there wasn’t one. A few guys just want give you their thanks. That’s all,” Steve assures.

Bucky mulls it over a moment. Steve doesn’t lie to him. And knows how much he hates surprises. He definitely knows how Bucky feels about this whole situation to begin with, so de doubts his own husband is pulling one over on him.

He lets the baking sheet slip into the big, industrial sink, and then washes his hands with the nail scrubber.

He wipes his hands on his jeans and lets Steve hold the door open for him. Bucky’s immediately greeted by a young amputee, two widows in their 70s, and three old men in uniform that indicate they’re WWII vets.

Far, far too few of them left now, Bucky thinks.

One of the WWII vets, Shaughnessy his patch says, sticks out his right hand. Bucky takes it.

“Your boy here tells me you’re gun-shy, sir?”

“ _’Sir’_?”

“Well, you’re a sergeant, ain’t you? I was still a private when I left Germany,” Pvt. Shaughnessy clears up.

Bucky knows it’s a simple joke, but the truth of it makes him queasy.

He takes an easy, quick breath. “’Bucky’s’ fine, Private.”

“Bucky it is. Bucky. That was some of the best damn cooking of my life. And my friends here seem to think so, too.”

The other vets and two widows nod their heads agreeing.

“People usually come in here with their pity, trying to do some vague, half-assed sense of ‘good’ with their canned beans, overcooked pasta, and rock-hard, shit brownies.”

Bucky can’t help but to laugh.

“But you remember, every year, that we’re real people, and deserve better than bruised fruit and store-bought tomato sauce from a jar. You make food that’s good. That taste like something. And the reason it’s so fucking good is because you give a shit. Be proud of that, Sgt. Barnes.”

Bucky fights everything in him not to let the tears floating in his eyes to fall.

He’s saluted by them all. And he can’t fight it anymore, tears roll down his face. He quickly wipes them away, embarrassed, and salutes them back.

“Thank you, sir.”

Bucky nods. Their hands come down and Bucky runs his fingers through his thick, brown hair, feeling edgy and discomfited.

“It’s always a pleasure, serge,” Pvt. Shaughnessy says. He shakes Bucky’s hand once more, then steps aside to allow each of his companions do the same. Bucky politely obliges, trying not to cry.

“Is…” Bucky clears his throat, trying to soothe the roughness that tagged along with the overwhelming emotion burning behind his eyes. “Is everything…alright? Can-can Steve and I give you folks a ride somewhere, or…”

“No offense, serge. But we’re neglected vets, not invalids. I’m 93 years old and can run faster than my youngest grandson.”

Bucky laughs. “My apologizes.”

“My daughter is picking me up. And these clowns,” he points to the widows and other soldiers, “have their own wheels.”

Bucky nods again. “Good.”

Private Shaughnessy leans into Bucky for a hug, but turns his lips to his ear. “It’s good to see you and your husband dancing like that. I’d have given anything to do that with my Charlie back then. We’ve come a long way.”

Bucky’s a little stunned at first, but his open-mouth expression quickly fades into a shy smile. Pvt. Shaughnessy gives Bucky a hard, but friendly slap on the back. Old goat still has some power in his hit.

Bucky and Steve watch Pvt. Shaughnessy and the others shuffle out of the VFW on home.

“You’re getting your ass kicked for that, Rogers.”

“Looked pretty innocent to me. How was I supposed to know you’d go blubbering like a baby,” Steve sasses.

Bucky smirks at Steve’s teasing. “…Come here, punk.”

Bucky pulls Steve into a slow, sexy kiss.

“It’s almost sunset. We need to get home,” Steve reminds, lips traveling to Bucky’s neck.

“I know. But there’s still a ton of dishes to get through. And I got to cram all that junk back into the car.”

“Never fear! The one and only Tony Stark is here!”

They turn to Tony behind them with a group of sully-looking teens and big, bullish man dressed all in black.

“Sorry I missed all the old people fun, but rest assured I did write the esteemed town of Cranford, New Jersey a very nice check to be donated to the VFW,” Tony smirks.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Tony. What are you doing here and who are these boring-looking children?”

“I’m almost 18, bro! I’m not a kid,” one teen snaps at Bucky.

Tony glares at the hostile teen. “Hey, skippy, you zip it. That’s an actual war hero you’re talking to. Show some goddamn respect.” Tony takes a dramatic breath. “As I was about to answer, before I was rudely interrupted, I come bearing gifts. Unfortunately, my gifts are rude and have criminal records.”

“What,” Steve asks, confused.

“You two deserve a break. You both are the most giving, sincere, selfless people I’ve ever met. And you deserve a break. You deserve to spend Christmas Eve at home with your kids. Not scrubbing grease from dirty pans and carting dead-to-the-world asleep kiddies to bed at midnight. So, here I am, Tony Claus, spreading merriment and cheer to my beloved friends. Especially you two.”

“Thanks, Tony…but I’m still confused. The kids,” Steve points to the 6 teenagers behind them.

“Oh, shit, right. They’re here to clean up all this shit. It’s part of their community service.” Tony turns to the group of high schoolers. “And if they don’t do it, and to my above board standard of cleanliness, they get reported to their parole officers and sent to juvie.”

“We can not leave these kids in here all night by themselves, Tony,” Bucky tells him.

“Relax, Buckaroo. That’s why my main man, Happy, will stay here with them. Watching every thing they do. Not to mention the cameras around this place.”

Steve leans in toward Tony to whisper, “There are no cameras here, Tony.”

“Yeah, but these idiots don’t know that,” Tony whispers back. He claps his hands loudly. “Okay, grunts, head to the kitchen first. Chop, chop. Happy follow. And send those poor souls Bucky conned into joining him here on Christmas Eve— kidding; cool it with the scowl, soldier— home.”

Happy grunts at the teens and they hustle toward the kitchen. Happy goes as well.

“I pulled each one of them aside a told them if they did a great job I’d give them a hundred bucks,” Tony cackles. “Stupid teenagers. Anyway, you two gone. Gather your children and get out of my face.”

“Thank you, Tony. I apprec—”

“ _We_ ,” Bucky corrects.

“ _We_ appreciate it.”

“I’d do anything for the two guys who let me crash on their couch for 10 whole days and made me waffles to boot. Now, go. I’ve got an awful Office Christmas party at Stark Industries to attend and you’re holding me up.”

Tony need not say anymore. Bucky and Steve grab their coats from the back, thank Natasha for watching Sarah and Joey the whole day, then head home with the kids.

»»»

Sarah runs to the left side window with a _[Menorah](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Menorah_\(Hanukkah\))_  in her hands.

“Don’t trip, peanut. Be careful,” Bucky says, following her. Steve’s beside him, holding a sleepy-looking Joey.

Sarah proudly displays the _[Menorah](http://www.jafgifts.com/9-classic-floral-menorah.html?gclid=Cj0KEQiAtK3DBRCBxt-Yxduq5p4BEiQAbFiaPVGVkAus5nZPzttmTKSDidRemQad2MZNcEoVTp3-swAaAv8n8P8HAQ)_  in the window. The sun setting through the glass, casting deep winter hues of blue and purple in the night sky. Sarah takes Bucky’s hand. “Can I do the story?”

“Of course you can, peanut,” Bucky smiles at her.

She pulls a folded piece of paper from her pocket. She clears her throat: “ _Hanukkah_ , the Festival of Lights, means ‘dedication’. A long, long time ago, a bad king ruled Israel. The king told the Jewish people that if they didn’t pray to his gods they would be in trouble.”

Bucky and Steve smile at the child-like rendition of Hanukkah.

Sarah continues. “This made some of the Jewish people so angry that they decided to disobey the king, and fight back. Judah the Maccabee was the leader of the Jews. And even though the king had elephants, Judah and the rest of the Jews were strong and pushed the bad king out of Jerusalem.”

She’s so happy and animated as she tells the story that Bucky can’t help but to be proud. And thoroughly entertained.

“Judah and the Jews won, then cleaned up their Temple and decided to light a menorah. But they only had enough oil to burn for one day. So, for being brave, God gave them a miracle, and the oil lasted for eight days and eight nights. That is why we celebrate Hanukkah for eight days: to remember this miracle and the triumph of the Jews. The end.”

Bucky and Steve clap.

“Beautiful, peanut,” Bucky tells her, creating the biggest smile on her face.

Steve hands Sarah a thin white candle. She places in the holder furthest to the right on the Menorah.

Bucky pulls a book of matches from his pocket. He strikes a match and lights the blue _[shamash](http://www.askmoses.com/en/article/486,33396/What-is-the-purpose-of-the-Shamash-ninth-candle-on-my-menorah.html)_  candle.

 _“Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu,_  
_melekh ha'olam,_  
_asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Hanukkah._

 _Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu,_  
_melekh ha'olam,_  
_she'asa nisim la'avoteinu ba'yamim ha'heim ba'z'man ha'ze._

 _Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam_  
_shehecheyanu v'kiyimanu v'higi'anu laz'man hazeh. Amein.”_

“ _Amein_ ,” Steve and Sarah repeat.

Steve puts his hand on Bucky’s, still hold the burning _shamash_. Sarah places her little hand atop Steve’s own. Their hands joined, they light the thin, white candle Sarah placed in the Menorah and place the lit _shamash_ candle into the center holder.

 _“Hanerot halalu anachnu madlikim_  
_Al hanisim ve'al hanifla'ot_  
_Ve'al hatshu'ot ve'al hamilchamot,_  
_Sheh asita lavoteinu_  
_Bayamim haheim, bazman hazeh._  
_Al yedei kohanecha hakdoshim._  
_Vechol shmonat yemei Chanukah_  
_Hanerot halalu kodesh hem,_  
_V'ein lanu reshut lehishtamesh bahem,_  
_Ela lirotam bilvad._  
_Kedei lehodot ulehallel_  
_leshimcha hagadol al nisecha,_  
_Ve'al niflotecha, ve'al yeshuatecha,”_ Bucky recites.

He bends down to kiss Sarah’s cheek. He kisses Joey’s cheek, too, who happens to e passed out in Steve’s arms. He kisses Steve as well. “Happy Hanukkah.”

“Happy Hanukkah, Buck.” Steve turns to their daughter, “You want to sing _Maoz Tsur_ , peanut,” Steve asks.

“No. Grandma and Grandpa always sing it better. And I’m tired,” she tells them.

Bucky sweeps her into his hold. “Thank you, peanut. You were the best helper today.”

“You’re welcome, dada.” She kisses his cheek.

“Bed?”

“Bed,” she confirms.

Bucky turns out the light, leaving the Menorah lit, and then follows Steve and Joey up the stairs.

 

 

* * *

Bucky’s drunk. Steve can tell by the way he’s…being nice to Tony. They’re hugging and laughing and holding half-empty glasses of spiked [egg nog](https://makemeacocktail.com/cocktail/6825/brandy-egg-nog/). They’ve only been here at Thor and Jane’s for about 3 hours, possibly less than, but Bucky’s starting to pass ‘tipsy’ and hurry quickly on over to ‘hammered’ if he doesn’t intervene soon.

Thank God the kids aren’t here, he thinks.

Despite the numerous social functions between them all, Sarah and Joey have never seen their fathers act any way that wasn’t appropriate. They make it a point to have only one drink between them before they switch to water or soda. Regardless of making a scene, they simply don’t want to drive their small children home loaded out of their minds. They would never. Putting their kids at risk like that is… It’s just something Steve can’t even comprehend.

Luckily, the option isn’t even on the table. Thor and Jane’s Christmas party is ‘adults only’. They’re all using their parents as babysitters. Sarah and Joe, however, are spending the second night of Hanukkah with Bucky’s sister, Rebecca, in Rochester. Bucky’s parents finally decided to take advantage of the very expensive cruise he and Bucky booked them for their anniversary.

Rebecca’s kids are older, in high school, but they’re good kids. Or at least two of them are. Their eldest, Austin, is constantly getting into trouble. Going so far as to get herself arrested last year for public intoxication and public indecency. She’s almost eighteen and the Barnes family has no idea what to do with her. One more slip up and its real jail for her. Not community service or 28 days in a juvenile detention center. She’s already got a record, and it could only get worse if she doesn’t clean up her act.

What bothers Steve the most is that Sarah seems to idolize her big cousin. She was jumping out of her skin with a buzz after Steve told her she and Joey were getting on a train to spend the rest of the weekend with ‘Aunt Rebecca’. Sarah adores Austin. And as far as Steve knows, the feeling is mutual. But she’s still a troubled, teenage girl, and counting on her to be responsible around her impressionable young cousin is a tall order when you’re at that age and so very selfish and naïve yourself.

So Steve’s grateful that Rebecca’s middle daughter, Lucy, and her son, Caiden, are such good kids who love watching over Sarah and Joey. They’ve been sending pictures to Steve and posting on their Instagrams videos and photos of them being silly with them. Including one of the whole family gathered around the Menorah and lighting it. Austin was there, too, actually appearing engaged and smiling. Steve could see in the video that she was holding Sarah’s hand as they sang Sevivon Sof Sof Sof in Hebrew. Minus the clapping parts of the song of course.

Steve’s shoulder is bumped as he watches the video for the 3rd time since he got to the party. He looks up. Thor.

“You miss your little ones,” Thor says. Less of a question and more of an observation.

“I always miss them when they’re not around.”

“I miss Mikko, too.”

“How’s he like vacationing in Australia with Uncle Loki and grandma and grandpa,” Steve asks.

“Oh, he loves it. Rubbed my face in it today that Loki took him for a ride on his motorcycle.”

Steve’s eyes go comically wide at the thought of 10 year old Mikko on the back of a Harley.

Thor laughs. “Loki has a sidecar on his bike. And swore up and down to me that he went as slow as humanly possible.”

“Thank God,” Steve breathes.

“I had the same reaction. Jane, surprisingly, did not. She was way more cool about it than I was.”

Now, that does make Steve smile.

“Yep. He went for a ride on a motorcycle, went fishing with grandpa, saw a kangaroo and a koala up close, went surfing with grandma, and met a girl, named Oola who taught him ‘bad words’ in Wati. He’s having a blast. And I hate it.”

Steve laughs. He gets what Thor means. He doesn’t want Sarah and Joey to be miserable without he and Bucky, but it niggles at him how much he misses them and how indifferent kids can be when they’re having a good time. He’s sure that’s exactly what Thor meant as well.

Thor being so nurturing, so ‘maternal’ took Steve by surprise when Mikko was born. He’s such a commanding, hulking presence that he never thought of him being such a marshmallow. He had wrongly assumed it’d be Jane that was so involved and worrisome when it came to their son. Quite the opposite in fact. Jane’s rather laid-back, and detached a lot of the time. Focused more so on her work.

“I get it,” Steve admits, “but I’m glad my kids are having fun. And Mikko, too.”

“You know who’s watching Maria tonight,” Thor asks.

Tony’s parents are dead, and Pepper’s live across the country in LA. And Steve knows there’s no way Tony Stark would ever let his daughter that far out of his sight.

“Jarvis from what I understand,” Steve answers.

“That poor man. Doesn’t he have a family?”

“I think Tony and Pepper are his family,” Steve assumes. He’s about 90% sure Tony and Pepper are in fact the closest thing Jarvis’ has to a “family.” Despite working as their butler and occasional nanny.

“Nah. If that were true Tony would have invited him. I’m guessing he flew in Pepper’s folks and they’re at Tony’s babysitting that horrible, little girl.” Steve’s eyes narrow at the long, blond-haired man. “Oh, come on, Steve. That child is a demon. A real one.”

“It’s Christmas, so I’m going to ignore that you bad-mouthed a small child and continue to drink my sparkling cider.”

“You’re not drinking,” Thor asks, looking disappointed.

“Bucky’s drinking enough for the both of us,” he quips. “One of us has to drive home,” Steve shrugs. “I drew the short straw.”

Technically, as soon as they walked in Bucky grabbed a drink, forcibly making Steve the DD tonight. Steve was agitated for all of 3 seconds before he remembered how bad he’d gotten last year at Natasha’s birthday party and how Bucky cleaned up his puke and stayed home to take care of him all day when he got a hangover.

“Good system you guys have. You should teach it to Tony and Pepper,” Thor shades with a chuckle.

Steve nudges him for his trash talking. But true enough, Pepper is on probably her 7th glass of Chardonnay, and Tony… Well, Tony’s very expensive bottle of scotch is gone and now he and Bucky have cracked open a bottle of cheap whiskey they found in the kitchen.

“I got 50 bucks that says the only thing those two are talking about is you,” Thor says of Bucky and Tony.

“Stop. You’re such a gossip tonight. No more spiked egg for you, pal.”

Thor chuckles weakly. His smile lifeless. “I’m sorry. Just… Just jealous I guess.”

“Pfft. Of what? You and Jane are just as stupidly happy as the rest of us. Tony and Pepper included. Regardless of their fights and attempts to out drink each other,” Steve jokes lightly. “Tony may have been in love with your brother—”

“Obsessed,” Thor corrects.

“ _Infatuated_ ,” Steve tries to make sound better. “They were infatuated. But even though they were that gone on each other, even though Loki left like he did, and even though Tony took it badly, he found Pepper. And he loves her. He loves her more than his first and last breath. I’m just a schoolboy crush to him.”

“The high school quarterback he never got to fuck at prom,” Thor asks, eyebrows raised mockingly.

“Sure. Why not?”

Thor snorts at Steve’s annoyed tone, nearly spitting up his drink.

“The point is, there’s love there. Real love. With me and Bucky, too. Clint and Laura.” His eye catches Natasha and Bruce chatting privately in a corner. They look intimate, comfortable. “And even though it’s new, really new, I think Natasha and Bruce are on their way to something real, too,” Steve hopes. His attention turns back to his friend beside him. “There’s nothing to be jealous of, idiot.”

The sentiment is nice, but Steve can see his words fall short, limping lifelessly to the floor and not catching onto Thor. His brawny friend merely shakes his head slightly and stares at Steve. Seeing him, but not really looking…

“Thor—”

“Jane and I are getting a divorce.”

Steve’s whole body flushes with heat. His hands sweat and heart raises. His mouth is dry like a desert. The room feels small, and Thor looks so distant suddenly.

“…W-what…?”

Thor guzzles the rest of his beer. He slams the bottle down on the wooden end table next to him. “I need another beer. Be right back.”

As Steve watches Thor slip into the kitchen, he remembers to breath, and what Thor said. He said… Thor and Jane are getting a divorce. They’re breaking up. Steve’s legs finally move, going after Thor. He weaves his way through friends and Jane’s co-workers, before reaching the [kitchen](http://www.houzz.com/photos/9829244/Lake-Elmo-Lodge-transitional-kitchen-minneapolis), and catching the sight of Thor’s red jacket disappear out the back door.

Thor’s…gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the long wait. Work and the holidays got away from me. I'll try to have the last chapter, New Year's Eve, up soon.
> 
> Hope your holidays were well! :D
> 
> http://www.reformjudaism.org/practice/prayers-blessings/hanukkah-blessings


	3. New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve takes Thor's bad news the hard way, so Bucky gives him some much needed reassurance at Tony's New Year's Eve party.

* * *

“It’s not our business, Steve,” [Bucky](http://sebastianstanzone.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/IG-producergedalia-10152016.jpg) says as he grabs his black, silk socks out of the sock drawer. He sits on the end of the [bed](https://www.houzz.com/photos/5541175/Bedrooms-transitional-bedroom-new-york) watching Steve struggle to tie his bowtie. The blond is more than a little peeved at the moment and can’t concentrate on the task at hand.

“They’re our friends, Bucky—”

“Still. Not. Our. Business. Steven.”

“They’re breaking up!” [Steve](http://unbiasedwriter.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/chris-evans-oscars-red-carpet.jpg) rips his bowtie off from around his neck and throws it onto the floor.

Bucky slips his socks on. Steve’s been on this since Christmas when he found out. When Thor told him. His nosiness and intrusiveness is far from new to Bucky; Steve likes to know everything about everyone, so he can help when needed and be there to fix the problem, but Thor and Jane have all but blocked him from interfering in the demise of their marriage, and it’s breaking Steve in half that he can’t be of help when he desperately wants to be.

Bucky knows it also hurts him a little that he wasn’t aware anything was wrong in their marriage; he feels closed off and in the dark about the whole thing, further initiated by Thor and Jane refusing to allow Steve to discuss it with them at all. As friend or counsel. Bucky figures Thor was a little tipsy and emotional the night of the Christmas party. Too many lies and too much pretending finally caught up to him, and he needed to say something. Anything. To anyone. Steve just so happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Either way, Steve knows now, and it’s happy about it one lick.

“Come here, baby.”

Steve comes over to Bucky, resting his head on his shoulder. Bucky curves a sympathetic arm around him.

“I feel the same way. I don’t want them to split up either. And I don’t want Mikko hurt by them splitting up, but that’s all you, me, and anyone else can do: feel bad and be there when they need us. Because, Stevie, this is their marriage, and I’m sure they tried with everything in them to save it, but…couldn’t. The best thing for them, probably, is to end it.”

Steve groans, not liking the idea of divorce possibly being Thor and Jane’s best option.

“Do you have any doubt that logical-thinking-bad-ass-scientist-Jane-Foster-Odinson didn’t think this through? Didn’t weigh all the pros and cons? Didn’t hypothesize, test her theory, and understand its outcome? Do you have any doubt that she and Thor aren’t completely torn up about what they realized was best for them? For Mikko?”

“…No,” Steve says, softly.

“Then don’t treat this like you can swoop in and save the day. Like it’s that easy. Like they already haven’t tried to do everything you think they haven’t.”

“It’s not that,” Steve says miserably. He breaks from Bucky’s hold and grabs his bowtie off the floor.

“Then what is it?”

Steve loops the bowtie around his neck. “Doesn’t matter.” He ties it perfectly in the mirror then slips on his tuxedo jacket. “We’re going to be late.”

It’s all he offers before sweeping out of the room adjusting his cufflinks.

»»»

Steve tucks himself into a corner and decides to be a miserable sack the moment they arrive at [Tony’s house](https://www.houzz.com/projects/1729154/amalfi-drive-residence). After about 20 minutes, Bucky’s had enough and leaves him to it.

It’s New Year’s Eve and he isn’t going to let Steve’s sour mood bring him down. He said all he had to say regarding Thor and Jane, and dwelling on it isn’t going to do any good for anyone. So, Bucky grabs a glass of champagne, takes [Natasha](https://i.blogs.es/03adca/gtres_u112814_447/450_1000.jpg)’s hand, and whizzes her around the [ballroom](https://images.trvl-media.com/hotels/1000000/910000/906500/906485/906485_169_z.jpg) floor in her purple lace gown.

(Ballroom. Tony Stark has a fucking ballroom in his house.)

“You and the blond bombshell fighting,” she asks.

“Nope. He’s just stuck on something and treating it like the sky is falling.”

“What is it?”

“Can’t say. Not my place. I will tell you it sucks, but there’s nothing anyone can do about it, so you know, Steve—”

“He wants to do something. Anything.”

“Precisely,” Bucky replies.

“Should I be worried?”

“No. But when you do find out, it will break your heart,” he says seriously. Because it did create a slithered crack in his own.

“Way to be cryptic, Barnes.”

“Like I said: not my business to tell. Otherwise you’d know.”

“Bet I can get it out of, Steve,” she says with a simper.

That’s not a bad idea, he thinks. “Could you? I’m sick of looking at him all torn up about it. Go have a talk with my boy. Maybe it’ll brighten his shit mood.”

“Will do.” She spins out of his arms and saunters over to Steve.

Bucky, meanwhile, heads over to the enormous [shrimp cocktail display](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/9d/b0/90/9db090d8cf15b4021fb9d4b04682c7bb.jpg).

»»»

Bucky is about to stuff his face with his 10th jumbo shrimp when Steve comes flying over to him and knocks it from his hand!

“Hey!”

“You knew! You knew and didn’t tell me!”

Bucky groans and peers across the room at an apologetic-looking Natasha and Sam. It would seem they knew, too. And Sam somehow knew that Bucky knew, relaying that to an oblivious Steve.

“Bucky!”

Thank god the music is too loud for anyone to hear Steve yelling at him. Bucky takes Steve by the elbow and guides him quickly out of the ballroom and outside onto the snowy [veranda](https://www.houzz.com/photos/53991120/Amalfi-Drive-Residence-modern-deck-los-angeles). It’s gorgeous out. Cold, but a stunning winter wonderland scene. Too bad they can’t enjoy the romance of it because Steve’s itching for a fight.

Bucky looks around, making sure they’re alone. They’re the only idiots outside in the snow without the good sense to put on a coat.

“Yes, Steve, I knew. I knew Thor and Jane were getting a divorce. Thor told me they were having problems a year ago, and Darcy told me on your birthday that they were splitting up for good. Happy?”

Bucky planned a weekend road trip for Steve’s 35th birthday this year. It’s on the 4th of July and Bucky bought out a quaint [B&B](http://www.mackinawbrigadoon.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Slideshow1.jpg) in Camden, Maine for four days. Tagging along with he, Steve, the kids, were the rest of their ‘family of choice’ and their kids. Friday through Monday of beautiful, hot sunny days in the small, coastal town surrounded by friends. Barbecue and beer. Seafood and white wine. Fishing, day hiking, and sailing, then fireworks and a stunning [birthday cake](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/186125397080071406/) the night of Steve’s party.

Tony was annoyingly drunk the whole weekend; pissed Bucky refused to let him pay for anything, and a little sore Bucky rejected his idea of having Steve’s birthday at his lakehouse in North Carolina. But Bucky didn’t care. Steve was floored and happy the whole time, which is all Bucky wanted, so he held his tongue as long as he could, then let Tony have it at a gas station on the drive back to New Jersey while Steve was passed out in the car.

The night before, while helping Bucky clean up after Steve’s party, is when Darcy broke down into tears and told him that Thor and Jane were getting a divorce. She and Jane are like sisters, and she’s Mikko’s godmother. She’s their family, too, so it hurt her just as much that two of her favorite people were ending their relationship, disrupting their ‘family’.

Bucky held her close, letting her cry it all out, trying to console her. He made her tea and listened to her worries. He’s not a therapist like Steve, or good at giving advice like Sam, but he’s a great listener and shoulder to cry on. He listened to her until her voice was sore, her face stained with tears, and she’d finished her third cup of [raspberry tea](https://jet.com/product/detail/20ea4da22832451fb601ef74c9dbce5d?jcmp=pla:ggl:JD_cons_Gen_Grocery_a3:Grocery_Beverages_Tea_a3:na:PLA_786070974_46630715208_pla-303545356218:na:na:na:2&code=PLA15&pid=kenshoo_int&c=786070974&is_retargeting=true&clickid=fad65176-1097-4eec-8150-0ebabf0117fa). He sent her to bed with a kiss on her forehead and a promise to keep everything to himself after she had asked him to. Even from Steve. Bucky understood that. It wasn’t meant for him to know the things Darcy confessed to him in private, but she needed to unload the burden she’d been carrying around for months. Bucky was just conveniently there for her when she did.

And if it wasn’t any of his business to know, it certainly wasn’t Steve’s or anyone else’s. He figured Thor and Jane would tell everyone when the time was right. For them. But until then, Bucky was more than okay with being mum about it all.

So, yeah. Bucky knew. Since the summer. And he didn’t tell Steve.

“No, I’m not happy! Why didn’t you tell me?! We don’t keep secrets! God, this is just like your smoking!”

Bucky knows that last part was just to needle him, because Steve (neé Rogers) Barnes can be right petty sometimes.

“Okay, first— not the same thing. I told you I lied about that, apologized, you forgave me, we moved on, and I quit for good, therefore, we’re done bringing that up. Second, you’re right; we don’t keep things for each other, but this I did keep from you, because thirdly, it’s not my business, it’s not your business, and it’s not anyone else’s business. Darcy confided in me while she was hurting, I listened, and refused to betray her confidence in me. As a goddamn therapist I expect you to understand that, Steven.”

He only calls him ‘Steven’ when he’s pissed.

“Fourth, what exactly would knowing do for you? You want to counsel your friends into staying together in their shit marriage? You going to pull a Hayley Mills and Parent Trap them? Force them into wacky situations in hoping they’ll fall back in love? Or do you want to guilt them into not breaking up? I told you Thor and Jane did not come to this lightly. They’re not kids and they’re not dumb. They’ve done all they can to salvage what was between them, but it didn’t work and now it’s time to end things. It sucks. Truly. But it’s their decision and their fucking decision only. And lastly, most importantly, they clearly didn’t want you to know. They didn’t want to involve you, Steven. So stop trying to meddle and get pissy with me for not sharing other people’s problems with you!”

He can’t stand when they fight. They rarely do, but when it happens Bucky feels a little seasick like he does now. Yelling at Steve, or Steve yelling at him, crushes him a bit, and all he wants is for this to be over.

Steve’s eyes are filled with tears. The sharp, intake of breath, fighting back a wrecked sob makes Bucky’s heart fold in on itself as Steve turns his back to him, crying.

Fuck.

Christ, he hates this… “Steve… Stevie, look at me.”

“I don’t want to fucking meddle, you asshole. I’m not being nosy and I’m not trying to fix anything,” Steve snaps, wiping his face with his jacket sleeves.

It takes a lot for Steve to swear outside the moments of Bucky filling him up to the hilt with his cock, drawing out loud moans and profane whispers from his boy as he fucks him, hard and fast like he likes. This isn’t one of those times.

Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets; his anger subsiding, making him more apparent of the bitter cold around them. He can see he and Steve’s breath in the winter air. He takes off his tux jacket and wraps it around Steve’s shoulders. Steve accepts it quietly. Bucky rubs his hands up and down Steve’s arms.

“Tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

Bucky leans into Steve, his nose inhaling him at the back of his perfectly coiffed hair. It smells like peppermint-scented pomade.

“…It’s stupid,” Steve says softly, sounding every bit of embarrassed.

Bucky’s arms tighten around his man. “However you feel, Steve, is not stupid. I’m sorry if…if I made you feel like it is. Tell me, baby. Please,” he whispers into the nape of Steve’s neck.

“…I’m scared… If Thor and Jane can fall out of love with each other, then… Can it happen to us? If they can just…end it between them and give up, than we can, too. That can happen to us, too.”

Bucky unravels his arms from around Steve, stepping back. “What did you just say?”

Steve finally turns around, catching the hard, narrow gaze of his husband. His hands tighten around the fabric of Bucky’s tuxedo jacket still draped over his shoulders. Bucky’s jaw is tight, but moving in ticks, like he’s grinding his teeth. Steve’s suddenly at a loss for words with a bit of fear on his face.

“That’s what I thought you said.” Bucky grabs Steve’s wrist, hard, yanking him, dragging back into the ballroom through the throng of people in fancy black tie mingling drunkenly, happily, with each other and amongst an incredible buffet of seafood, fruit and cheeses, and crudite. Bucky pulls him up the [staircase](https://www.houzz.com/photos/53991000/Amalfi-Drive-Residence-modern-staircase-los-angeles), past a curious-looking Natasha who has the good sense to leave them be.

Bucky opens the door to a [guest room](https://www.houzz.com/photos/8288024/Foxtail-contemporary-bedroom-other) on the second floor at the end of the hall on the left. It’s the designated bedroom Tony gives them when they’re over here and too drunk to drive back home to New Jersey, so they spend the night.

He slams the door behind them and snaps his fingers at the bed!

Steve sits. His wrist hurts a bit from Bucky’s death grip, pulling him through Tony’s mansion to the room.

Bucky grabs Steve’s chin in his hand, tilting his head up, letting their eyes meet. “What is your name?”

“Wha—”

“What. Is. Your. Name?”

Steve swallows thickly. “Steven Grant Barnes.”

“ _Barnes_. Who gave you that name?”

“You did.”

“Why?”

“…Because you love me. Because we’re married.”

“No. I gave you that name because you’re _mine_. You belong to me. It’s my dog tags you wear around your neck and my ring on your left finger. It’s your name inked on my chest, over my heart. It’s your serial number on my arm. Love is the reason we’re married, with the two best kids on the planet, but it doesn’t even begin to describe how we own each other. You’re mine, just as much as I’m yours, Steven.”

Tears run from the corner of Steve’s eyes. Bucky has this way, this tone, when he says things like that that clears everything away for Steve. Removes all the clutter from his head and leaves only what’s important.

“We are not Thor and Jane. We’re not Tony and Pepper, or Clint and Lauren. We’re Steve and Bucky. Whatever goes on in other people’s watery marriages does not matter, because you and me, punk, we’re forever. It goes beyond the end of the line for us, pal. You got that?”

Steve nods.

“Don’t ever question what’s here. And don’t ever think we’re only as good as other people. I’d never hurt you. And I’d never let you go. Not without setting the whole world asunder.”

“Bucky…” Steve’s heart is beating out of his chest.

“You believe in this marriage? In us?”

Steve nods again. “Yes.” He means it. Always has. Always will. Bucky can see the truth in his crystal blue eyes, and hear the sincerity in his voice.

“Say it.”

“I believe in us.”

“We’ve been through too much for you not to. I won’t let you forget that.”

“Bucky, kiss me. Please.” Steve’s practically shaking with need. He can’t help it when Bucky’s like this: romantic and finite in his word. When Steve needs a good talking to and reminding about something as important as how much Bucky loves him.

Bucky leans in closer, lips just centimeters from Steve’s own. “You don’t deserve a kiss. You nearly broke my heart a minute ago.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I told you it was stupid. I believe in us. You know that.”

“I do know that. But you still doubted it. Doubted me. That shouldn’t go unpunished.” Bucky moves his lips to Steve’s ear. “You can have a kiss. Only one kiss. But at midnight.” Bucky steps out of Steve’s reach and crosses the room. He sees Steve check the time on his watch (a two thousand dollar [timepiece](http://www.righttime.com/rt/muhle_glashutte/m1-25-31lb.htm?gclid=CjwKEAjw3pTJBRChgZ3e7s_YhAkSJAASG9VrOUhia80YE8smirjF4qrQrajwO5aWjjJjXsvYCnU9sBoCBdnw_wcB) Tony bought Steve for his birthday, just to piss off Bucky).

“Bucky, that’s 3 hours from now!”

Bucky drags a desk chair over to the side of the bed Steve is sitting on. “I know.” He undoes his bowtie and cufflinks, rolling up his sleeves. He sits in the chair, looking ever so authoritarian at the moment. “Stand up and take off all your clothes,” he says casually.

Steve’s eyes go dark with lust. Bucky can feel his want pouring off his fit, muscular body in heated waves.

He’s “punished” Steve before: orgasm denial, edging, and a spanking once (Steve didn’t like it one bit, despite coming all over Bucky’s thighs). It’s rare when he does it, but he was particularly irritated by Steve’s admission about why Thor and Jane splitting up bothered him so much, and he feels as though he needs to remind his boy why even thinking that was offensive.

Steve lifts to his feet smoothly. He shakes off Bucky’s tuxedo jacket then peels off his own. He yanks on his tie next, and slowly pulls it off his neck, never loosing eye contact with the rakish brunet sitting across from him. He removes his cufflinks, throwing them on the nearby nightstand, and unbuttons his dress shirt. He pulls it off his shoulders and arms, letting it fall to the carpeted floor.

Bucky watches intently; eyes intense, like he’s still angry. And he is a little.

Steve toes off his shiny, black shoes and pulls off his dark socks. He kicks his shoes aside with his bare foot, not wanting them in the way of whatever Bucky has planned for him.

Steve’s eyes stay on Bucky whose own blue-grey specs still bore into him, making the chiseled man flush rose-colored all over his body. He unzips his pants and pushes them down his legs, steeping out of them. He’s only in an undershirt and a pair of [tighty whities](http://www.jcpenney.com/p/fruit-of-the-loom-6-pk-premium-cotton-briefs/pp5004730120?pTmplType=regular&country=US&currency=USD&selectedSKUId=50433510273&selectedLotId=5043351&fromBag=true&quantity=1&cm_mmc=ShoppingFeed-_-GooglePLA-_-Briefs-_-50433510273&utm_medium=cse&utm_source=google&utm_campaign=briefs&utm_content=50433510273&cid=cse%7Cgoogle%7C002%20-%20mens%7Cbriefs_50433510273&gclid=CjwKEAjwu4_JBRDpgs2RwsCbt1MSJABOY8an616aB6TEXBOcjw7m3aZ_HFlNqSDpXOF9urHBhs_0JRoC4yHw_wcB&kwid=productads-adid%5E45810122978-device%5Ec-plaid%5E76121677538-sku%5E50433510273-adType%5EPLA).

“Everything,” Bucky says.

Steve starts with his underwear, sliding them down his legs and pulling them off his feet. He’s rock hard; long cock ready and pointed north. But Bucky doesn’t miss the small smirk on Steve’s lips before he ever so slowly lifts his shirt over his head. He’s not an idiot. They both know how much Bucky loves Steve’s chest, and the tow-headed brat is giving him a slow reveal, letting his eyes wander over his rippled torso and perky pecs.

“Get on the bed. Lie on your back.”

Steve obeys. He looks incredible, laid out and on display for Bucky to stare at so openly.

Bucky breaks from the chair, picking up both their bowties from off the floor. He takes Steve’s wrist and lifts them over his head.

“James, no. No,” Steve whines. “Please.”

Bucky ignores him, trying his wrist together then to the headboard of the bed. He’d have called him ‘Bucky’ if he were really begging him not to.

Steve’s blushing pink all over. Chest heaving because his heart is racing. Bucky’s cock is so hard at just the sight of him. Just the knowledge that Steve gets so worked up over him and the games they play sometimes.

“You’re being punished, but you know the rules. Say them.”

“Red, stop. Green, don’t stop. Yellow, slow down,” Steve tells him, voice dry and breathy with want.

“What color are you,” Bucky asks.

“Green.”

“Good. You can come, whenever you want, but your punishment is I won’t lay a single finger on you until you do.”

“But…I can’t come without you touching me,” Steve says, confused. He pulls a bit on his tied wrists for emphasis. “I can’t come without touching myself.”

Bucky gives him a wicked smirk. “Well, then you might have a problem, given I’m not untying you until you make yourself come. Without help.”

Bucky knows he’s being a bit cruel with this punishment. He knows where he gets a little distant sometimes, locked in his own crippling thoughts and needing space, Steve, on the other hand, becomes desperate to be close. He’s touch-starved in those moments, crawling all over Bucky like a kitten, needing to curl up against him, or feel his hands all over his naked skin. And he knows especially right now Steve’s hungry for it. He needs it emotionally; to tether him to Bucky and their life together, the one he was so scared a minute ago was limited and only momentary. He has to have Bucky, but Bucky’s refusing.

Bucky crosses the room to the [bar cart](http://cdn.decoist.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/prod2111565_av2.jpg) in the corner. He pours himself a glass of [scotch](https://www.mashandgrape.com/products/glenlivet-18-year-old-single-malt-scotch-whisky?utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=googlepla&variant=4161447685&gclid=CjwKEAjw3pTJBRChgZ3e7s_YhAkSJAASG9Vrn8AOs-Hasm-U1aweRrewXvUJx7lHbwWT63w27NigHxoCxBbw_wcB).

“Will you touch yourself for me?”

“No,” Bucky answers, taking a sip from his drink. He wants to though. Really wants to. Steve looks so good spread out and helpless on the bed. He’d love to climb up his broad body, pull out his dick, and paint his tits with cum.

“Will you put your cock in my mouth?”

“No.”

“You said you wouldn’t touch me, but didn’t say I couldn’t touch you. Come over here. I need you, James.” Steve squirms on the bed, aching for it.

God, he really wants a cigarette…“As good as you look right now, dollface, I’m going to have to say ‘no’.”

Steve groans in frustration. “I can’t come like this!”

“What color are you,” Bucky asks.

“Yellow.”

Steve’s start to fall out of the scene, really feeling frustrated.

Maybe Bucky can help him out just a little bit…

He grabs a delicious-looking red apple from the fruit bowl on the cart and the paring knife in the [bartending set](https://www.webstaurantstore.com/8-piece-starter-bar-cocktail-kit/407BARKIT1.html?utm_source=Google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=GoogleShopping&gclid=CjwKEAjw3pTJBRChgZ3e7s_YhAkSJAASG9Vrjw4MlCRzTIopPO0UlyvULbAbweutOnNGSyjNHfb4uBoCWEXw_wcB) beside it. He walks back over toward Steve and sits in the chair he left by the bed, leaving his drink behind. He stretches his legs out, nonchalantly resting his feet atop the nightstand.

Bucky cuts into the apple. “Close your eyes.”

Steve watches him a beat, unsure of what’s happening, but he trusts Bucky. He’d never hurt him. Steve closes his eyes.

“Breathe.”

Steve takes three long, deep breathes.

“What color are you?”

“Green.”

Bucky cuts off a slice of apple and brings it to his mouth. “Aspen. You have no idea how much I think about that.”

Steve opens his eyes. Oh, does he remember Aspen 3 years ago…

“I’ve never lost control like that before,” Bucky tells him, chewing his apple.

Heat rises up his spine and bores into Bucky through his eyes. “I loved every second of it.”

He knows Steve did. “You were so wet.”

“Never been that wet before. But, god, you were so hard, Buck…” Steve shutters, remembering it.

“Never been that hard before,” Bucky tells him, biting into another apple slice. “Came all over that pretty mouth of yours. And your neck. Your big tits. And in that round little ass. Three times.”

They went at it all night, well into the morning. Bucky’s stamina was insane. Steve was practically bathed in Bucky’s cum; sticky, exhausted, and sex drunk by breakfast. He was too spent to bother eating by the time room service arrived with their food. Bucky forced him to at least drink a glass of orange juice, and then let him drift back to sleep. When Steve finally woke it was nearly four in the afternoon. Bucky gave him a hot bath then feed him cheese and fruit as they relaxed on the plush sofa by the fire for the rest of the day.

“I was so sore.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Bucky says, a little guilty. He banged Steve up pretty good that week. But Steve had worn every hickey, every fingerprint bruise, every rug burn, and every bite mark like a badge of honor for the entire world to see and be jealous of. “But you were so tight, and looked so good. I couldn’t help myself. I had to take you raw and deep.”

Steve bites his lip and whimpers. “Untie me, James. Let me taste you.”

“Not yet, sweetheart. You have to come first.”

Steve groans; annoyed but turn on completely. His cock is swollen, leaking wet from the tip. He can’t do this. He can’t lie here helpless and naked while Bucky just sits there, casually eating a fucking apple, while recounting the best sex of their marriage. “James…”

“You were a walking dream in those [panties](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1kIKiHVXXXXXhXVXXq6xXFXXXw/Women-s-Panties-Lingerie-Nightwear-Briefs-Black-Lace-Hollow-Gauze-Sexy-Underwear.jpg) and [bra](https://cdna.lystit.com/photos/2013/10/08/urban-outfitters-black-camellia-lace-bralette-product-2-13940748-797374103.jpeg).”

They hadn’t had a vacation in 2 years, since they adopted Sarah, and were moving into the third trimester with their surrogate for Joey when their anniversary was around the corner. Steve suggested a trip away for a week, to Aspen at a ski resort, but Bucky was wary about being gone so long and so far away from a then 4 year old Sarah. In addition to their surrogate entering her last stage of pregnancy.

Steve was cautious, too, but he needed to get away and with Bucky. He missed his husband. _Intimately_. Raising a family with their hectic job schedules didn’t leave much time for passionate love making. Instead what Steve got was quick fucks in the shower every now and then, and the occasional, lazy handjob before bed if they weren’t too tired from the day.

He missed the pet names from his “Bucky Bear” and the hard sounds the bed made banging against the wall when he rode him fast and dirty.

He spent almost two weeks trying to convince Bucky to go away with him, promising to make their anniversary worthwhile. When Bucky finally relented, they left Sarah to be looked after by his sister, Rebecca, in Rochester. Natasha promised to check in with their surrogate and email them updates on her condition.

And Steve held true to his word.Their second night in Colorado, Steve told Bucky he had a surprise for him after dinner. They finished their meal, skipping dessert, and went to their [cabin](http://www.rogerwadestudio.com/images/architectural_photography/portfolios/log_home_photos/ARCD-6195.jpg). Bucky started a fire and waited patiently for Steve’s gift in the living room. He’d just slipped his shoes off when Steve entered the room…in nothing but a pair of black, lace panties and a bralette, which managed to fit his big body perfectly.

Bucky stared, open mouth and breathless for a long while before demanding Steve lie down on the lengthy sofa while he ogled him some more.

He ran his warm hands over every inch of Steve, doubling back to the parts of him covered in soft lace. The undies had a peekaboo back that sent a hot coral through Bucky’s entire body. He put Steve on his belly, pulled the panties to the side, and ate Steve out until he was a sloppy, wet mess.

“You ripped them off me,” Steve recalls, squirming and wiggling with need.

He did. By the third time they were at it, Bucky had gotten rough and tore the lingerie off Steve with his teeth and hands. Steve, already on edge, came just from the feel of the delicate fabric ripping off his hips and tits.

Bucky grins, eating another slice of apple. “Can you blame me?”

Steve shakes his head. He loves when Bucky wants him that badly.

“God, baby. I don’t think I realized how much I missed you. We were in the same bed, but missing each other. I needed my sweetheart so bad that night.”

“I needed you, too.”

“Do you know what the best part of that night was? Listening to you scream for me with my mouth on your cock. Loud enough to wake the dead.”

“I get like that with you.”

“You remember what you called me?”

Steve moans, writhing on the bed, fighting against his ties. Fuck, does he remember...

“Say it for me now, honey. You know what it was.”

Steve’s hands grip the headboard, white-knuckling it. “Oh, James…”

“That’s not it. Come on, dollface.”

“Touch me first.”

Bucky waggles his finger at him. “Nope. You know the rules of the punishment.”

Steve’s whimpering with little cries in between as he throbs for a little friction, but he can’t turn his body, forced to stay on his back and wiggle around on the comforter like a petulant child. “Please,” he begs.

“My cock is so full right now, and you look damn good, gorgeous. Come on. What’d you call me that night, baby boy?”

They were on the floor, before the warm fire. Bucky had already torn off Steve’s expensive lingerie. They’d gone at it three times by then. Steve was worn out, but Bucky had _finally_ removed all his clothes, showing off the hard, tan skin, and thick, beefy body Steve worshipped.

He threw down a blanket, pulled Steve to the floor, settled between his legs, and took him into his mouth. He wet his fingers on Steve’s tongue and circled his puffy, pink entrance as his lips moved up and down Steve’s long dick.

It was too much. He was too sensitive by then. Steve was hazy, swimming in pleasure/pain, but Bucky wouldn’t let up. It didn’t take long for Steve’s vision to white-out as he gripped the edges of the flannel blanket in his hands, tilted his head to the skylight above them, with his lungs on fire as he screamed, coming in Bucky’s mouth—

Steve’s toes curl. A fierce current flows up his body, shaking him to his core. He feels it in the pit of his stomach, cracking over his spine, in his lungs, his rapidly beating heart. It seizes his whole body. He curves into himself, taut and hot to touch—

 _“’Daddy’! I called you ‘daddy’,”_ Steve shouts. White ribbons of cum spout from the red tip of his cock and onto his stomach and chest. A drop lands on his lip. He tastes it, trying to find his breath. His mouth is dry, gasping for air. His skin buzzes and feels warm and sweaty.

Hands tug at his wrists. Bucky. Who should be next to him, in bed, kissing his temple with a cocky smile. Instead, he’s fully clothed still, standing over him with a very, _very_ , obvious erection.

Without warning, Bucky sucks his middle into his mouth then slips the wet digit between Steve’s cheeks, teasing his hole. Steve comes again in an instant. Goopey semen webs between his cock and the hairless landing between his navel and pelvis.

“Told you I’d touch you after you came on your own.” Bucky winks at him then rounds the bed, heading toward the bathroom.

“Where you going, sergeant?”

Bucky points to the bulge in his slacks. “Got a little something I should take care of.”

Steve sits up. A pout on his face. “I can take care of that for you, you know?”

“I know, doll. But this is kind of part two of your ‘course correction’.”

“Bucky!”

“Won’t take long,” Bucky winks at him again.

“James Buchanan Barnes, if you jerk yourself off in that bathroom, so help me god, I will never eat another thing you cook ever again!”

“Is that a fact,” he says smugly, leaning against the bathroom door jam.

“Absolutely,” Steve assures.

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we,” he says, amused.

Steve climbs off the bed. He takes Bucky’s hand and draws him into the [bathroom](https://www.houzz.com/photos/7923591/T1-contemporary-bathroom-denver). He turns on the shower faucet, filling the room with steam, and helps him out of his tux. Bucky opens the shower door and walks Steve backwards into the hot water. Steve sighs, loving the feel of the cleansing water on his tacky skin.

Bucky grabs a shampoo bottle and squeezes two quarters worth into the palm of his hand. He runs his hands gently through Steve’s wet hair, washing it.

“Buck?”

“How much goddamn [Dapper Dan](http://www.westcoastshaving.com/brands/dapper-dan.html) did you use,” Bucky grumbles, trying to shampoo all the product out of Steve’s hair. “Yeah?”

“Do I really have to wait until midnight for you to kiss me?”

Bucky knows that face. That pout. That soft, purring tone. And it always gets him. Every. Single. Time. “No, you spoiled brat. You don’t have to wait. I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

Steve smiles bright and wide. Pleased with himself for getting his way. Their lips brush softly in the water. Bucky’s hands stop working in Steve’s hair, but stay put at the back of his head. His tongue readily plays with Bucky’s before the other man opens his mouth, swallowing the taste of him. Steve moans into their deep kiss. His hand slides down Bucky’s side, finding his cock, and tugging on it tenderly. Bucky breaks their kiss to suck and bite at Steve’s neck.

“I’m sorry, Buck. Sometimes I get a little too into my head. I got scared and thought that if Thor and Jane—”

“Shhh. Shhh…” Clearly Steve gets a little too into his head, seeing as how this is the conversation he wants to have in the middle of jerking Bucky off. “I know. But you know that’ll never happen to us, right?”

“End of the line.”

“And beyond that.”

Steve smiles. He tips his head back, letting the water get all the shampoo out. He kisses Bucky one more time, and then falls to his knees, taking him in his mouth.

Bucky’s not going to last long. Especially after watching Stevie come all over himself untouched, just from some dirty talk and a memory of them going at it like animals in heat. But Bucky really does think about that week in Aspen a lot. How could he not? They were insatiable. _He_ was insatiable. All because of lingerie. But Christ, did Steve look like sin in it.

“You’re growling,” Steve says, pulling off Bucky’s cock a moment to grin up at him.

“Thinking about buying you something.”

“What,” Steve asks, massaging Bucky’s balls in his hand.

“Panties. Red ones this time.”

And the desperate little whimper he gets in response is exactly what he was hoping for. He guides Steve’s mouth back to his cock and thinks about red lace against the creamy, pale skin of Steve’s perfect bubble butt.

He comes and Steve swallows every drop.

»»»

“Do I want to know where you two have been for the last hour and a half? And why your hair is wet,” [Sam](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/ca/23/65/ca2365413822f895dd261d17de812bed.jpg) asks.

“Not unless you want details,” Bucky tells him.

“I do,” Natasha chimes in.

She’s always begging Steve for the juicy tidbits of he and Bucky’s sex life. And she’s not the only one. Darcy and Pepper get colorfully nosy about it, too.

 _What is it with straight girls and gay sex_ , he wonders.

“When don’t you,” Steve teases her.

Sam swipes a flute of champagne off the tray of a cater waiter passing by. “Well, at least you two didn’t miss the countdown.”

“Or Sam’s failed attempts at getting laid,” the redhead pokes fun of.

“I don’t know who these women are that Tony invited, but the famous ‘Wilson Charm’ seems to have hit a wall.”

“With all of them,” Natasha smirks around the rim of her wine glass.

Steve knows all her snide remarks are just jealousy. Before Bruce, Natasha and Sam tried to make a go of it together. They were pretty smitten with one another, but eventually Natasha put up walls when things started getting serious, and Sam got too tired trying to knock them down. Steve thinks she’ll always carry a bit of a torch for Sam though. The same way Tony still has one for him.

“Ah, no worries, Wilson. You’ll find someone to kiss at midnight,” Bucky tries to reassure. Steve doesn’t miss the look he shoots at Natasha. Who seems to be without Bruce tonight. She rolls her eyes at him. “And if worst comes to worst, I’ll let you pucker up with Steve.”

Sam grimaces. “Steve’s like my brother. That’s gross, man.”

“You promised to kiss _me_ at midnight, so don’t try and pawn me off on others.”

“You think for one second I’d let someone else steal our midnight kiss,” Bucky says, brushing his lips across Steve’s.

Steve blushes.

“I get my kiss first. Then Sam. But only after I’m tired of how sweet you taste.”

“Once again, thanks, but no thanks,” Sam tells them.

Steve stares, fixated on Bucky’s serene eyes, the color of coastal waters… His hair is still a tad damp, but styled (short on the sides, long on top) nonetheless, and his skin is cool and fresh, washed with the expensive, oceanic body bar Tony put in the shower they abused.

And he’s got that look, that permanent smolder, on his face as he stares back at Steve. The one that makes Steve weak in the knees and wish they were alone so he can take Bucky apart with his mouth. Again.

“Good,” Bucky tells him. “Wasn’t really in the sharing mood anyway,” he says, heated gaze still on the blond wrapped in his arm.

God, he loves this man.

Bucky leans into Steve’s ear. “You interested in any of this, gorgeous?”

Steve shakes his head. “No.”

“How ‘bout I take you home then?” Bucky removes his arm from around Steve’s waist and entwines their fingers. “’Night, guys.”

“Wait. Where are you two going,” Sam asks.

“Home,” Steve answers. He pecks both Sam and Natasha on the cheek. “Tell Tony ‘Happy New Year’ and the party was nice.”

Bucky weaves them through the endless crowd to the front door. There’s a coat check girl. Bucky gives her their ticket and she finds his [navy blue peacoat](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/46/6e/03/466e03a3860867db2b99045ca3d23950.gif), and Steve’s wool [trench coat](http://image.dhgate.com/aktdesc_929020570_00.jpg). Bucky helps Steve put on his coat like the gentleman he is, and escorts him out the door.

It’s snowing. Big, fat flurries coming down from the night sky. Steve loves the snow. He loves the hazy, hot summer more, but snow is special, and reminds him of baking Christmas cookies with his mom, and shoveling the walkway with his dad at the 6AM before school.

Bucky walks a few feet ahead, giving a valet his parking ticket.

_“Hey.”_

Steve turns around. Thor. He approaches Steve, rubbing his hands together for warmth. He tucks them under his arm, folding into himself a bit in a lackluster attempt to be warm. He looks good in his [teal suit](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/d2/b9/82/d2b98276272908c2f0489e700749b644.jpg) and his hair cut short.

“You two leaving already? It’ll be midnight soon.”

“Yeah, but we just want to get home.”

Thor raises a sultry eyebrow. “Oh. Beating traffic, huh? That’s what we’re calling it?”

Steve laughs.

“You didn’t deny it. I’m surprised you didn’t sneak off upstairs somewhere, knowing you two.”

“Who says we didn’t?”

It’s Thor’s turn to laugh now. “I envy you both.”

He says it with a smile, but Steve knows he means it.

“One of these days you’re going to have to tell me your secret.”

“What secret,” Steve asks.

“How to stay stupidly in love for all eternity.”

“It only looks hard. It’s actually the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Everything else is an uphill battle,” he answers honestly.

“If only it were like that for us all,” Thor says with an unmistakable sadness crept into his voice.

If ever Steve was going to share whatever pearls of wisdom he’s acquired to Thor, now is the time. He steps closer to slightly taller man, looking him in the eye. He wants Thor to hear him, understand him, and believe what he’s about to say: “Being in love with James Buchanan Barnes takes no effort whatsoever. It’s such a simple thing to open my eyes every morning and kiss him awake. To tell him about my day and listen to him talk about his. To laugh with him. To miss him when he’s not around. And to hold onto him when we go to bed at night.

What is hard are the things we don’t say but should. The petty squabbles and the big fights that last for days. The secrets we promise not to keep from each other, but can’t help when we do. And the nights we sometimes don’t get to touch. But what stops all that from ruining us, is reminding ourselves that we’re in love. We love each other enough to not make the hard parts even harder.”

Thor’s eyes are glassy in the winter air. He’s listening. “And if the hard parts get harder and harder?”

“There’s no shame in realizing it won’t get better.” Because Thor needs to know that he and Jane calling it quits don’t make them failures or flawed, messed up creatures. They didn’t let anyone down. It doesn’t mean they weren’t once in love. Divorce doesn’t cancel out what they once felt for each other. “And knowing that, a lot of the time, is for the best. That takes love, too. You have to really care about someone to let them go and know it’s the best thing for you both. For everyone.”

_Mikko will be fine. He has you as a father._

Thor nods, hearing Steve and reading between the lines. “So that’s the secret, huh,” he asks with a faintly playful smile, wiping away a fallen tear. “Sage advice. And the perfect night for it. Everything starts anew at the chime of a clock.”

“Every day is a new day. Not just tonight.”

Thor chuckles. “Such a therapist thing to say… No. No, New Year’s is different. Nature’s time machine,” he says, staring off into the white, middle distance. “You’ve got a chance to not make the same mistakes twice.”

“But whole new ones instead,” Steve jokes bleakly.

Thor gives him a crooked smile. “Hopefully not.” He pats Steve’s shoulder and pulls him into a bear hug. “Happy New Year, friend.”

“Happy New Year, Thor.”

“Kiss the kids for me,” the strapping blond tells him. He gives Bucky, standing behind them, a casual wave before running back inside the mansion.

“Everything okay,” Bucky asks.

Steve lets himself be pulled into Bucky’s arms. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it’s going to be okay.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He knows Bucky’ll never ask him what was said between he and Thor. Just a vague okay is good enough for him. 

The valet pulls [Bucky’s car](https://ccpublic.blob.core.windows.net/cc-temp/listing/97/7206/7152445-1967-mercury-cougar-gt-s-code-std-c.jpg) round front. When he first met Bucky he had just restored an all black, '67 Mercury Cougar with his dad, and Steve was determined to get Bucky to fuck him in the backseat like a couple of naughty teenagers. However, when they adopted Sarah, Bucky tried to sell it, believing it wasn't safe for kids to be in. It's not, but Steve refused to let him get rid of it. He loves this car. He loves Bucky in this car. And he loves the six times Bucky's taken him in the backseat and the two times he's given him road head. Steve's fine with them using his [Audi crossover](http://o.aolcdn.com/dims-global/dims3/GLOB/legacy_thumbnail/750x422/quality/95/http://www.blogcdn.com/slideshows/images/slides/350/467/1/S3504671/slug/l/2016-audi-q3-003-1.jpg) as the "family car," just so long as Bucky still takes him out for joy rides and "[parking](http://www.slang-dictionary.org/Parking)" at the old, abandoned [mill](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Droeschers_Mill). 

Bucky takes Steve’s hands into his, warming them with his black, leather gloves. He kisses Steve’s frozen fingertips. “You’re cold, Stevie. Where are your gloves?”

“I forgot them on the table by the door.”

Bucky tips the young valet then takes the keys from him. He holds the passenger door open for Steve. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Am I going to have to punish you again? For being forgetful and giving yourself frostbite?”

Steve gives the sexy chef a devilish grin then kisses him softly on the lips.

"What?"

“Green,” he whispers against his mouth, sliding into his seat and pulling the door shut. Because New Year’s will over soon, but their night has just started.

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will adjust as the last two fics are posted. Hence, the fic being rated EXPLICIT but there being no sex within this chapter; that comes later ;)


End file.
